


Coccinelle

by DrJackAndMissJo



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspired by Miraculous Ladybug, M/M, Miraculous AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2020-06-24 13:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJackAndMissJo/pseuds/DrJackAndMissJo
Summary: This wasn’t a lecture, or a mere rendezvous with his friends, nor even a date he was looking forward to. Those could wait. This was the only thing in the entire universe he couldn’t be late for.Why couldn’t Hawkmoth pick his akumas according to his class schedule?@@@Miraculous Ladybug Au X MerthurLiterally the crossover nobody asked for





	1. Inconvenient akumas and where to find them

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> As per usual, I do not own shit.  
> You don't really need to know much about ML to read this but here's a list of basic things:  
> kwami is a little floating animal spirit guide that gives way to the transformation and the powers, in Miraculous they're called Tikki and Plagg but here they're Leon and Morgana  
> akuma/akumas are black evil butterflies whielded by the evil dude, Hawkmoth, and turn civilians into the side villain of each episode  
> KIlgahrra is the guardian of all the stones that compose the pantheon of possible miraculouses, but I'm gonna have only the ladybug and the black cat one on this story, I'm not sure about the butterfly one with Hawkmoth yet
> 
> Anyway, that's it!  
> Enjoy!

He was running incredibly late. Not that that was an unusual occurrence, even his professors had begun to accept that Merlin was going to be the last person to walk through the lecture door and his friends found it hilarious to no end. But still.

This wasn’t a lecture, or a mere rendezvous with his friends, nor even a date he was looking forward to. Those could wait. This was the only thing in the entire universe he couldn’t be late for.

Why couldn’t Hawkmoth pick his akumas according to his school schedule? The new one had turned all the way across town and he had to take two different trains to reach a place close enough to transform into his super alter ego and swing from the rooftops à là Spiderman.

Merlin made a mental note to, in case he ever found out the Villain's identity, share his calendar with him, to set up a fight nicely that matched both their schedules.

Even before reaching the perimeter the police had cleared for them, he could hear the battle.

“GIVE ME YOUR MIRACULOUS, YOU NASTY CAT!” yelled the akuma, a nine-foot giant with a bat. Apparently Merlin had missed the introductions. _'Simply tragic.'_ he thought sarcastically.

“How about no?” replied back Chat Noir, toying with his baton with nonchalance. He was insufferable and a general pain in the ass and made puns so awful they made Merlin want to push him off of a building most of the time, but his feline partner was loyal as a dog and really good at protecting the city. After all those years working and fighting side by side, they were inseparable and could easily understand each other by a simple side-glance. They still didn’t know each other’s identity, Kilgharrah had forbidden them to reveal each other’s secrets, but nevertheless they worked as a perfectly oiled machine and spent nearly every day with each other. Chat Noir was the only person in the entire world that knew him best.

And now he had spotted the dotted superhero appearing on a rooftop behind the akuma and was raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. He was always really well-groomed and, when asked, he had the answer ready: _“Appearances are essential, even when and especially when fighting against akumas and monsters while covered in dust and blood.”_

Go figure.

There was a silent conversation happening between them, with Chat motioning towards the bat as to where the butterfly was _–'duh!'_ – and he asked the feline superhero for a quick distraction, necessary for him to latch his yoyo around it and finish the job. It had become an actual job lately, considering they received a little payment from the major and the chief of the police department. They got paid in cash, considering it was the safest way to keep their identities covered, considering that the bills were not that easiest method to track them down.. He had no idea what Chat was doing with his share, but it helped him pay for his tuition and his books, without burdening his mother or his uncle financially too much. They all thought that he had gotten a scholarship, which was extremely believable considering he managed to be on top of his classes while juggling a secret identity. A triple threat indeed.

Everything happened in the span of a few heartbeats: Chat moved wordlessly towards the brute akuma, who raised his bat to hit the cat flat against the concrete; Merlin leapt from his secure positioning on the rooftop and threw his yo-yo mid-flight towards the object, calculating the trajectory it would’ve needed to take next and using his knowledge of physics to break it instantaneously. The black butterfly left its cover and made to fly away, only to be captured and purified quickly. People all around them clapped and a very confused man appeared in the place of the former akuma.

“Do you think I need to Lucky Charm here?” he asked his partner, who just shrugged in reply before turning to the nearest police officer, “Can you guys handle it, or do you need a _paw_?”. Merlin internally cringed at the terrible pun but didn’t comment on it.

“It would be best if you used your powers, Coccinelle. He destroyed several buildings in his wake.” He dutifully nodded and called up his mystical powers: a sweep of bright red washed over him and magically a black-dotted red energy bar appeared in his hands. He stared puzzled at it for a moment, before his partner called loudly: “LB!”. Chat grabbed the bar and started to devour it with the hunger of a thousand men. The spotted hero was left to merely stare at his now empty hand, baffled as the alley cat finished his snack and placed dutifully the torn wrap back in his hands. He had eaten it so quickly, he was sure Chat had probably forgotten to chew properly.

“I skipped breakfast.” was the reply he got back, looking sheepishly around and silently daring anyone to comment about it.

He stared at his partner for a couple of moments, before nodding understandingly. After all, their metabolisms were incredibly high and they both needed to eat more than the average person. He then called back to his powers, letting them restore the situation as it was before the attack.

They pounded their fists together, saying the usual “Bon joué” before bidding their goodbyes to the remaining police officers and swing away.

“What took you so long?” asked Chat as they ran away from the scene. “I was stuck in a lecture. I had to take two different trains to get there! It was hell!” he admitted. It was an incredibly boring lecture that required attendance, but he had been there for the first hour and had signed the attendance list, so he didn’t particularly care about skipping the rest. University was far easier than high school under that point of view, since back then it was nearly impossible for him to sneak out during class hours without raising suspicions. Merlin almost asked his uncle for a medical note to justify his actions, but Morgana suggested otherwise. The little kwami thought it would complicate things incredibly and, as always, she was right. Now, nobody cared. Hell, he could’ve even showed up in his Coccinelle costume without the mask on and no one would’ve noticed. Maybe they'd comment on the accurate cosplay, but other than that, _rien._

“I feel ya” commented back Chat Noir as they reached the metro station, “I had one at the crack of dawn and I was absolutely starving! I had to leave as soon as I woke and it was _p-awful_! But thankfully I had my wonderful Lady to save the day!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that!?!”

“As many as you _pre-fur._ But I’m still gonna do it and _get the cream_.”

He was about to smack the cat between his human ears for the puns, but two things happened in the same exact moment: the announcer at the station yelled that the train was about to approach in a minute or so, and his miraculous earring just started beeping, signalling the imminent fall of the transformation. He unapologetically looked back at Chat, “Talk to you later, minou” and went to look for a quiet place to return to his civilian clothes. Merlin hid in a dark corner that smelled too much for his liking and softly whispered the usual words. In a flash of pink, his kwami appeared in front of him. “That was quick!” Morgana said, flying into his scarf and hiding in between the cosy layers. He chuckled softly, before grabbing two cookies from his backpack, one for himself and one for the tiny creature concealed in his clothes.

“Why don’t you take a nap, Morg? This way we can just get home quickly.” he breathed, lips barely moving.

He could go around using headphones, but they had once again broken, leaving him without the prime meaning of concealing his conversations with the tiny lady, other than try to look as if he wasn't indeed talking to his scarf. One too many people had given him crazed looks as he spoke to a seemingly invisible thing, and he had mastered the art of speaking softly to avoid nasty looks from strangers.

The tiny lady shook her head, moving the scarf in her wake, “You still have class this afternoon, Merlin. We’re not skipping today, doesn’t matter how tired we are.” She then added, her voice slightly softer, “What about the library to kill time?”

“I hate that you’re always right.” he said, rolling his eyes with affection.

She simply pinched him on the neck as the doors of their train closed.


	2. Midnight thoughts

Merlin loved the view from up there.

Nobody was ever at that time of the night there, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, except for him and, occasionally, an alley cat with windswept blond hair. He could admire in peace the city of lights in all her beauty, with only the surreal atmosphere keeping him company.

On those nights when he was sure Chat Noir wasn't going to come out of the shadows, he would reach the highest point of the tower and let his transformation fall, enjoying with Morgana the quiet peace he didn't always have at home. There was something about living above a patisserie that meant there was always some kind of chatter, a distant noise that didn't let him fully experience the quietness of the city he protected.

With Chat Noir going away for the 4th consecutive weekend to God knows where (' _It's not my fault these crazy assholes don't let me stay the weekend without working my off! I have a tight schedule, you know?')_ , he was sure nobody would interrupt him there.

Morgana was quietly asleep inside his scarf, the cold November air biting into his skin. He had even brought a book with him, to keep him away from his interior monologue, but even that failed to distract him infinitely.

His traitorous mind kept on going back to the same spot.

Living a double life with the rest of the world is one thing. But living a double existence within one self isn't exactly healthy.

Merlin had pretty much always known where his attractions laid, said on tall and handsome and sarcastic models, for instance. But his entire life was spinning wildly after some comments he had read on the _Nelle-blog._

Everyone was entitled to their own opinions, that he was well aware of. But he didn't like when others went swooping their noses rudely at his private life, at something that affected him outside of the dotted suit.

There was a picture, taken a few days prior just after a battle, undoubtedly snapped by his best friend Gwaine, that depicted him, full costume on, staring languidly at the empty spot his partner had just vacated. Underneath floated many positive comments, complimenting on saving the day once more or congratulating the photographer with some random marriage proposal to the spotted superheroes or his feline counterpart.

But, unfortunately, amongst those were also several other reactions, calling him nasty names and not being kind or appreciative of his work. Gwaine moderated those comments and deleted them all at the minimum sign of blatantly idiotic hate, but the internet had already done its damage.

" _Do we really need a faggot to protect our city?"_

_"I've always thought there was something gay about him."_

_"Maybe that's the reason Chat Noir calls him Ladybug!"_

_"It's such a shame he's gay, he was so hot."_

Merlin clenched tight his fists. So much for his supposed ladybug luck! He wished desperately to use his own magical powers on the situation, cleaning everything up with a brilliant shade of red.

He was hurting, alone on the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the night with only his dark thoughts to keep him company.

He wasn't staring languidly at his partner for crying out loud! Sure, from time to time his eyes might look a little bit too close to the black leather on his long legs, only to have to shake himself out of the inopportune gazing, scared of having been caught.

But, this once, he was actually worried about the well-being of his friend.

More than once Chat had come to a fight in a bad mood, his stupid oppressive father and his demanding job shifting the lightness off of him.

That had been one of those unfortunately many times. Chat always managed to unwind after a battle, but this once he still had the edge on and stormed off without explanation, preferring to be left alone.

Merlin kept to himself and didn't follow him, too tired himself after a difficult day, but he couldn't help being worried.

That was what the camera caught!

There were countless pictures of the two superheroes together, bantering and talking closely, and even a few videos that captured the insistent puns or the occasional flirtation the cat was a master at.

But, apparently, no matter how tight the leather was on the blonde’s body or how many years passed, his heart still couldn't stray from the sinful idea of perfection that was his unrequited crush since forever.

The childhood classmate turned best friend of several years, supermodel of international fame, medieval history student and overall huge dork, Arthur Pendragon.

So, yeah. The comments, albeit hurtful, poked at something true. But they had gotten the wrong blond!

They had been in the same class in middle school and somehow, even when Arthur was an arrogant donkey, Merlin couldn't help but be fond of him. They began to sit next to each other at lunch, to study together at the library, to spend their free time playing video games in Merlin's room. They became thick as thieves.

Then puberty came and hit Merlin like a truck. Bodies started to grow exponentially and feelings not entirely straight started to arise inside of him, which he diligently kept quietly to himself. He simply claimed he was too busy to even think about girls (which he was indeed!) and tried to maintain a low profile whenever something queerer than usual happened.

With time he realized that his affections might not have to be limited to blond assholes but that he could not so easily swing between pretty girls and pretty boys, but at the end of the day there was a singular blue pair of eyes that tormented him.

He kept mostly to himself those realisations, but decided to be a little honest with his mom and his uncle Gaius before starting university. It went pretty well, amongst tears and hugs and a stern ' _I still want grandkids, Merlin Emrys!'_.

Morgana also knew and supported him whatever, although he didn't need to tell her explicitly. She already knew, considering they spent almost every moment with each other. She went even as far as to try and set up dates for him, but those adventures didn't go exactly smoothly well.

Gwaine suspected, but Merlin never confirmed nor denied anything, and Arthur, well, bless his soul, he thought Merlin was as straight as an arrow, much like the blond himself.

Because that was the real problem, the bane of his existence.

The love of his life, his soulmate, his best friend, was irremediably straight, always talking about how much in love he was with a girl he worked closely with. Granted, Arthur had never specified if it actually as a girl or a boy, always trying to keep the conversation gender neutral, but Merlin suspected she had to be one of the equally famous supermodels their age that had done a photoshoot with him and irresponsibly took his heart.

And Merlin didn't have a single clue about how to deal with it.

The constant butt-load of work he put himself under at the patisserie or at school was almost enough to distract him from the sad reality, and the constant bantering with Chat Noir took a huge edge off of his pent-up frustration, but part of being best friends with the love of your life involves spending a lot of time together. And he couldn't be distracted when Arthur was eating popcorn with his feet up on Merlin's lap, staring intensely at the screen when they had their regular Friday Movie Night. Sometimes he had a photoshoot that broke their sacred routine, so they'd move to Sunday Morning, the only time the model was truly free as his demanding father went to religiously tend his butterflies and didn't plan every second of his son's life for once.

But there were moments, such the one he found himself at the time, when his mind couldn't help but think about a thousand different situations, a million ' _what if’_ s. He plunged himself freely into the self-despair pit that unrequited love created.

Add that to the incredibly hurtful comments regarding the alleged sexuality of Coccinelle, his mind had never been darker.

Merlin, overall, appreciated privacy as a general policy. He wasn't shy nor anything like that, but it took him a little bit of time to fully warm up to someone. Constantly being under the spotlight as Coccinelle didn't help that either.

He couldn't understand what the big deal was. Of course, he hadn't told many people in his civilian life anyway, but mainly because he didn't feel the need to. Being attracted to both boys and girls shouldn't change someone's perspective of him and he didn't want to give anybody the excuse to treat him differently just because he wasn't 100% straight.

Same thing should've happened about his alter ego. He swung by the city with his yo-yo, saved the day and restored the peace of the people of Paris. That was it. His private life should've stayed that. _Private._

But, of course, that came into territory of being famous. Arthur himself complained about it almost daily over the phone, when paparazzi wouldn't stop following him from fencing practise to his lecture on Old English Literature.

_"It's like I'm a zoo attraction sometime, always having someone telling me to smile and do something for the 'gram. As if I don't have an account just for that!"_

Merlin understood that very well now, but couldn't exactly tell his best friend that without revealing also his occupation as animal themed superhero.

He could feel the headache raising in his head. He cracked his neck up, enjoying the feeling of the stretch and gazed at the little sleeping creature inside his scarf.

Not for the first time that night, his thoughts went to Chat Noir. Had he read the comments? What did he think about the picture? Was he bothered about it?

Would he still want to fight alongside of him, if that secret came out?

He just couldn't imagine sweet and caring and amazing black cat, jumping away from that, considering he was a massive shameless flirt.

During an interview someone asked if he was in love with Coccinelle, to which he defensively replied with a curt _"Aren't we all?"_. The question was rude, but he wasn't that much bothered about it.

But still Merlin had no idea how Chat would react if he ever mustered the courage to come out to him. He wasn't even sure how to tell him.

"Hi, hello, I am bi. But nothing to worry about cause I've been in love with my best friend since we ended up presenting my mother's cookies as a science project although I love science and already had a top notch project just waiting to be completed but we wasted the afternoon arguing about _Game of Thrones_ and didn't finish it in time and he thought of a solution in a hurry and although I should've been mad I was too impressed to do anything other than state at his beautiful smile as he explained why cookies should've been considered science based on the chemical reaction behind it."

Yes, sure, as if that could've worked.

His watch beeped one in the morning and he was brought back to reality. He didn't have much to do in the day after, so he could've slept till late, but he was sure Arthur would've swung by in the morning for coffee.

Morgana startled also awake at the noise.

"Is everything alright, Merlin?"

He debated lying to her, but by now he knew better. "Tired and overthinking everything, as per usual."

She lovingly nuzzled against his neck, before reminding him that he should sleep more.

"I know, it's just that…" he was at loss for words.

"I'm scared, Morg. What if Chat doesn't want me as his partner anymore because of this?"

"It's just a few bad comments from people that have nothing to do with their lives, Merlin. Besides, if something like that happens, I will personally find Leon, Chat's kwami, and kick his ass for you."

He chuckled softly at that.

"That's something I'd like to see some time."


	3. Wake me up gently for once, will you?

He was surrounded by trees. Tall and dark and all of them that irradiated a sort of power that meant they were ancient. Magic sizzled in the air and electrified it. And in front of him there was a lake. Calm, clean yet dark despite the light coming from above, dangerous beyond compare.

No fishes swam, no birds flew. Not a sound was uttered.

Until…

" _MERLIN!"_ someone screamt. The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

" _MERLIN!"_ it said once more, coming directly from the lake this time. He moved closer to it, out of instinct, and the waters engulfed him, shaking him at his core.

" _BLOODY HELL MERLIN WAKE THE FUCK UP! I'M HUNGRY!"_

Oh. And with that, he jolted awake with a pair of strong hands moving him in upright position.

"Couldn't you have gotten something downstairs?" he asked, voice so thick in sleep that the sound came out unintelligible for anyone who wasn't accustomed to him first thing in the morning.

Arthur, being most of the time his own personal alarm clock since they were in high school, understood perfectly.

"Where's the fun in that?" he claimed, flashing the poor Merlin one of his most radiant smiles that he used during photoshoots and that he knew for certain the raven-haired boy couldn't resist to.

If Merlin's brain wasn't still rebooting from waking up abruptly five seconds prior, it would've melted completely as an ice cream under the Sun. Luckily for him, it didn't just yet.

Rubbing the sleep off of his eyes and with a little yawn to the side, Merlin rose from his bed and blindly moved towards the bathroom.

He knew the path very well, having lived in the same room since the dawn of time, but that didn't mean that he did survive the trip safe and sound all the time. Luckily for him, he had a blond prat telling him to move to the left and to the right so he didn't have to cover up the bruised of walking into his desk chair or wardrobe. He did have to cover bruises from various akuma battles and from training alright, but somehow those from his encounters with furniture were the ones that hurt his pride the most.

He came out a few minutes later, freshly showered, with a towel around his hips and another drying his damp hair.

Arthur was laying on his bed, playing with Merlin's phone. The moment he stepped out of the bathroom, he turned his gaze to him and squared him up and down. Then the blond simply ordered rather rudely at him to get dressed, 'cause brunch awaited them!

Rude gestures were thrown by both parties.

Merlin could feel a burning stare on his back as he changed and asked abruptly, not daring to turn around and let Arthur know of his blushed-up cheeks, "What you staring at?"

"How the hell did you get so ripped still?"

Oh. Right. Although it wasn't a special occasion to see each other shirtless, Merlin had to always explain how a physics student who claimed to have no time to even sleep, managed to remain in such a lean and pristine condition. Excuses went from _"I save old ladies from crosswalks"_ to _"It's the stairs up to the physics department with all my books."_

Today, he choose a different approach. "Remember the shelter we went to last week but couldn't adopt cause neither our parents let us since we still live with them?"

"Duh. I'm still upset about that. We should move in together!"

Ignoring the last comment because it did funny things to his stomach, he kept on going with his initial train of thought, "Well I since then I carry the sin of not having adopted a single pet."

But Arthur was already moved on, and was rambling as he usually did when he was completely relaxed, something so rare since the day his mother had passed away during childbirth.

Which meant that every day Arthur was basically wired rather tight.

"There was that cute golden retriever, Aithusa. She was so cute and had sneezed at you! And what about that little black kitten, Mordred."

"That one was a downright bastard, I tell you what. Somethin' weird around him."

A pillow was badly thrown at his back, but still managed to hit its target with accurate precision.

"Don't you dare talk shit about kittens!" Arthur yelled outraged and ready to throw a second pillow at Merlin, who had now turned around and was trying not to laugh. Although the blonde’s aim wasn't particularly hard nor bad, years as Coccinelle had made him invulnerable to major hits all over his body and he would've been able to catch anything flying at him with ease.

"Oh please, you know I like them!" he said grinning like a fool as he bent down to pick up Arthur's preferred weapon, "But that one was freakish."

Merlin didn't like the way that little demon ogled all of his best friend's attention, if he was being honest. Yet Arthur seemed to have a hard time dropping the subject.

"Cause he was black?" he asked with a sheepish look on his face.

"Would I have a freaking Chat Noir themed pyjama if I didn't like black cats?" Merlin rebutted, crossing his arms at his chest, defending his partner in every possible occasion.

Arthur then doubled himself over, coughing up a lung as his face turned up red as Coccinelle's costume and the masked hero rushed up at his side, thinking about the possible ways to help his best friend. After he was finished he blurted out a little "Sorry, wrong tube" at which Merlin couldn't help but laugh.

"C'mon blondie" he said, raising from his crunched position next the bed, "didn't you say something about brunch waiting?"

Sprinting up with inhuman speed, Arthur was leading him by the hand down the stairs of his room, calling a quick goodbye to Gaius before leaving through the patisserie door.

As soon as they were outside, though, the blond let go of Merlin's hand, and the raven-haired man almost whined at the loss of heat, although he understood the reasoning: both of them had had a lecture from Uther himself about giving the wrong impression to the paparazzi and they were incredibly conscious about how they appeared to the outside world.

Merlin had to remind himself that over and over as his feelings for his best friend grew, and he had to also remember that Arthur was very much straight.

Still, knowing didn't make the sharp twist his heart made whenever he was around Arthur any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oblivious Merlin is my jam!


	4. You can't keep on bashing yourself for how stupid people think, Gwaine

"How's it going with the blog?"

The deep sign at the other end of the phone told him enough: Gwaine had spent the past two weeks since the ' _Is Coccinelle Gay?_ ' dilemma in an almost constant state of regret about posting the photo that sparked it all. Mixed reviews kept on coming from all sorts of people and the poor journalism student and his staff had to filter through them at all time.

"I just don't get the big deal, you know? He's whatever he wants to be!" yelled the distressed friend. Merlin couldn't do anything other than laugh as relief washed over him, "Maybe that's your reaction cause you're not straight."

Gwaine's shrug could be heard from all the way across Paris, "I guess" he admitted eventually. He then laughed soundly, "But I'm gonna say this: if he turns out to be queer Imma be disappointed cause I've been trying to get some action with that spotted weirdo for years!" he said, still laughing, before adding "And that cat as well."

Merlin tried to follow suit, but it came out more of a nervous giggle. He knew that despite his flirty nature, Gwaine was still incredibly in love with their former classmate Percival, they had just moved in together and were as close as ever. Merlin sometimes was jealous of his friends and how they were so open with their affection for each other, but he was also incredibly happy for them.

Then, a curious thought pushed his way out of the back of his mind, and who better to ask if not the Original Coccinelle and Chat Noir Expert to give him an answer. "What if he and Chat get together?" he asked quietly.

The line went quiet between them and for a second Merlin thought he had said something wrong, but as usual was surprised by Gwaine, who screamt "THEN HOLY FUCKING CHRISTMAS BITCH!" so loudly he could be heard without a phone. "But I'm serious" he continued "they gotta get it on with each other, the sexual tension between them is killing me!"

Countless time Merlin had listened to his drunken complaints about how those two idiots were made for each other, blushing because of the crude words the journalist used and not because he had feelings for his leather clad partner.

"You really think they're not straight?" asked an amused Merlin, knowing very well enough that at the very least one of the famous duo was so not straight. "I want them not to be!" came the outraged reply.

Gwaine then added, on a much serious tone, "I mean, Chat Noir's my spirit animal cause he flirts with everything that breathes yet is only true to Coccinelle." Indeed, he was right, Chat was absolutely unabashed in every circumstances, yet, at least while he was in costume, he revealed himself as truly as the mask let him to Coccinelle.

"I've got pictures, you know?" Gwaine said in a low voice, as if he was scared of being overheard, "If the one about Nelle caused so much drama when he was clearly worried about his partner, I can only imagine what ones about Chat checking that little spotted ass out will do!"

It was not a scenario Merlin was comfortable exploring. Small minded people could say whatever they wanted, but their words still stung and even if Chat Noir appeared as the most confident person in the entire world, he was not truly. The two superheroes had spent many nights talking during their partnership and knew each other incredibly well. Despite his vibrant outside, he constantly had various bad thoughts and not a peachy family life. _"The only good thing I have right now is my best friend"_ he had said countless times in front of a bottle of strong liquor after a particularly hard akuma. Merlin knew it was wrong to make comparisons, but he couldn't help himself from thinking about Arthur on those moments: his own best friend lived in a difficult environment, his father controlled his life down to how many times he was allowed to breath and constantly made him miserable, yet managed to do it all with a smile on his face because he loved him and was an amazing self-sacrificing idiot, very much like Chat Noir himself.

But it didn't do good to Merlin's mind to imagine that the love of his life and his partner were the same idiot, as he had painfully discovered first-hand.

"You're right, things would go apeshit crazy in that case" he said to the phone, dreading the situation.

Gwaine sighed deeply, "Besides if I did that I would force them to either come out or deny anything, which is never a good thing." The journalist himself had been in that situation, where a photo on the internet ruined his reputation. He had risen from it brilliantly, but some scars never healed, and since then he was cautious about those kind of subjects. If he had known the backlash that Coccinelle article would get, he would have never posted it.

"You can't keep on bashing yourself for how stupid people think, Gwaine" he said in a soft voice, trying to comfort his friend.

"Yeah, I know. Still it's frustrating. What if I lose my privilege as their favourite reporter?"

Merlin couldn't help laughing at that. As if he would ever let it happen! While it was true that the suit gave him confidence and agility, he was still nervous to talk with the press, which was the main reason why the _NelleBlog_ got the best interviews with the spotted hero.

Chat Noir had absolutely no problem whatsoever with that, but he also seemed to prefer Gwaine as well, for whatever reasons.

"Don't worry about that, my friend" he said while still laughing, "Pretty sure you must be one of their favourite people in Paris."

"Hope so! Anyway, gotta go, Art's here and we can finally start this match. Hang on" he said at the phone before shouting: "HEY PRINCESS YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO SHOW YOUR FACE AROUND HERE!"

One of the things Arthur loved about Gwaine was how unfiltered he was around him, he treated the blond like any other, with a normality that he rarely received. They joked at each other's expenses and were a formidable team on the football field together.

Still, that didn't excuse his behaviour in front of Merlin, who didn't tolerate the playful teasing of his best friend and so he yelled a simple "Gwaine be nice!"

"Just making sure I don't get asked to be his best man at your wedding, love."

"Fuck off asshole" Merlin said, willing his blood from colouring his cheeks without success. Despite never saying much about the subjects regarding his sexuality and his heart true desire, Gwaine knew exactly who Merlin was and loved him nevertheless. The only secret he hoped the journalist didn't know was his secret identity.

"Right, love you too Mer. See ya tomorrow" and with that the call was over. And Merlin was left alone with his physics homework once more, wondering if it was indeed time to release at least one of his secrets, particularly those that deeply concerned a blond supermodel.


	5. A bad situation that could have only gotten worse

Being Coccinelle had its many perks.

He could eat all he wanted, was actually encouraged to do so due to his newly hyper-speed metabolism. He could get to places faster, granted that he had a private spot to detransform and throw off all possible PIs investigating his identities. He always had someone to talk to, either the someone being Chat Noir or Morgana, and both were two different voices of reason that somehow gave the same conclusions whenever cross asked.

But being Paris' favourite superhero had also its downs.

Privacy was basically non-existent, he had to watch his every moves in and out of the suit. His agility had improved since his high school days, but he still walked into every table ever created on his path, despite his powers, and the suit could protect from incredible blows, but he was always purple all over constantly. He had to keep it all a secret from the people he cared about most, especially when one of his closest friends was the journalist once dead set on discovering who he truly was behind the mask. He had to lie to his best friend and possible love of his life, not only about his identity but also about his sexuality.

And also, he had to take into consideration the utter adoration that Arthur held towards Coccinelle and the sheer dread of the consequences of revealing his double identity would bring.

Overall it wasn't easy. Hadn't been easy especially in those last few weeks, where everyone seemed to talk only about Coccinelle being gay. 

His life had been public domain since he started the _lycée_ and become Coccinelle, yet Merlin would never get used to the spotlight, unlike his feline partner, who seemed to be used fully to the attention and managed to capture it effortlessly. 

And now, with everyone and their grandmother's watching carefully for a slip from his part, the spotted superhero had to be even more careful than usual. Which was hard.

Everyday there was a new article being written or a new post being made in the less famous and not quite as much edited blogs. The _NelleBlog_ and its writers had chosen not to report on the speculations, especially under Gwaine's proud stance, yet things kept on being said. Many commented daily and there was a new blog made only for the topic.

He knew it was a bad thing, but Merlin couldn't do anything other than check them, failing to resist the urge. It had not been that bad, to be honest. Many wrote about how they didn't care, or how they supported him and such.

But a few of them did sting particularly hard. Morgana was always comforting him, telling him that those didn't matter and that they didn't know anything, but it was becoming more difficult each time to let the words slide. Yet he still read them nevertheless, especially when Gwaine complained constantly about how idiotic and stupid his so called ‘colleagues’ were.

The last one broke Merlin. It was another one of those that Gwaine forwarded, with the sole purpose of sharing a laugh with one of his _best_ friends at how terrible the article was. Poor grammar and little to no punctuation, it read more like a Facebook rant that a published piece. Yet, despite the horrible writing, its conveyed message was pretty clear: ‘ _No one wants a gay vigilante here’_ was a captivating title, after all.

Merlin knew better than to read it, but still opened the link. Which was why he was now hyperventilating on his bedroom floor, with Morgana patting his hair and failing but still trying to calm him down. “Don’t worry, Merlin” she said, “those dumbasses run their mouth because they have nothing better to do. You have to ignore them; they know nothing of Coccinelle and they don’t matter.”

They all did know nothing, that part was very true. But they were also the public, the people he saved constantly, those that held him and Chat up on a pedestal and made them heroes.

Without their approval and without the mass media sprung out of their peculiar situation, the pair would be nothing more than a glorified furry vigilante. And that was an epithet that Merlin never wanted to read ever again.

He had to do something. Give a public announcement, produce a mysterious girlfriend out of thin air, make a speech about how he was most definitely straight as an arrow and most definitely not in love with his best friend and his partner both. Surely, if life was fairer, Chat Noir and Arthur would be the same person, but the recent weeks had proven Merlin that life was not fair and that everything sucked and that he was far better off recluse in his room under the comfort of his blankets.

He had hoped to have succeeded, when Morgana stopped talking and there was suddenly a peaceful silence that let all his thoughts swim less chaotically in his mind.

Of course, his personal pain in the ass had to show up just then, interrupting his solitude and sweeping all the blankets that surrounded him like a burrito of protectiveness. Arthur was, as always, a hyperactive Labrador with the abs and the jaw line of a Greek deity, and Merlin was always happy to see him and to ignore that painful tug at his chest whenever the blonde smiled, yet now he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness and in his feelings of unworthiness.

But the model wouldn’t stop poking his arm, “C’mon Mer, get up!” he said with a stern voice, scrunching down on his knees next to Merlin.

He didn’t have the energy to deal with that at the moment. “Go the fuck away, Pendragon!”

“Surnames? Really?” Arthur said, sounding taken aback. “Damn, you texted me that it was an emergency, but I didn’t expect this much resistance!”

“Texted you?” asked a now very confused Merlin, looking up from his lap to the serious expression his best friend sported. He was 100% sure he had not sent a single text since he read the articles, and Arthur had no possible way of knowing what was happening because they hadn’t talked about it. His mum and his uncle Gaius were shopping, and he was all alone in the house when...

_“Morgana!”_ he thought angrily. Of course the little demon would’ve texted the idiot to come running. She had been awfully quiet after all. Yet, Merlin couldn’t hold it against her: she had been worried and she knew that the only one able to bring him down to Earth was the grade A asshole in front of him. He ought to thank her later, he thought to himself.

“Short term amnesia?” asked mockingly Arthur, an eyebrow raised in a very Gaius-like manner and arms crossed at his chest, “Whatever, the point is: Now I’m here and I need you to stop laying down in whatever death bed this is supposed to be.”

He was outrageous! He had barged in practically uninvited and was now dragging Merlin out of his misery? Unbelievable! “You know damn well this is my out time from the world, you dumbass. Leave me alone!” he yelled, curling up in his blanket further away from Arthur and ducking his head underneath it.

Of course, Arthur had other plans for the day and decided to drag him all over the carpet until he was in the middle of the room, his feet dangling on his desk chair where the blonde model had propped them after using them as a makeshift rope, “Sorry, mate. No can do, it’s in the job description of being a best friend to not let you wallow down into self-hatred or whatever bullshit this is” he promptly claimed, chest huffing up in pride and striking a pose, as always. “ _When you’re this good looking, you never know when someone’s taking a photo”_ he had said when they were teenagers, and somehow the mantra stuck on both.

Merlin raised his head from the comfortable floor, eyeing his best friend sideways and crossing his arms over his chest, “What about the description for being an ass?” he asked, trying to maintain a serious expression but failing, already feeling the previous discomfort evaporate at the sight of Arthur smiling down at him, leaning against his desk.

Said blonde then lightly kicked the shapeless form below him, “Now you’re just being plain rude!”.

Laugher came out from both of them, the easy banter they constantly used with one another only calming Merlin even further. He eventually got up, folding his blanket-armour over his chair and then moving to stand next to Arthur, both silently staring somewhere over the distance on the other side of the room, lost in their own minds, comfortable with one another. Minutes passed, eternities, and yet they still remained in silent contemplation of their own issues.

Eventually Arthur broke down and turned his head around, watching Merlin worry his bottom lip. “You okay?” he asked, voice incredibly soft and quiet, as if he was afraid of talking too loudly. Merlin was about to reply with a customary ‘ _Fine’,_ but the blonde levelled him down with one single look: “Don’t you dare fucking lying cause I can always bust up your arse when you do!” he said with a stern tone, shaking his head in disbelief.

Merlin jumped up at that, getting into a defensive stance and turning around to fully face his best-friend, “Jeez Arthur, just drop it already! I’m actually fine, chill.” The raven-haired boy then moved back towards his bed, sitting on the edge of it, as far away from his friend as possible without giving too much away.

His mind was racing into twenty different paths at the same time: from “ _What does he think about this whole situation?”_ to _“Would he react badly if I told him the truth?,_ from _“Wouldn’t it be amazing if he and Chat were the same dude?_ ” to “ _How the fuck am I supposed to let him know Morgana texted him without outing us?”_

He choose what felt like the smoothest course, the one he was used to playing: “I didn’t mean to text you anyway…” he began, trailing off mid-sentence. This, covering up for Morgana, he was very much used to, had been doing it since their high school days where he faked a sneeze or a couch to cover the sounds the little kwami made. That was a somewhat safe territory.

Arthur made a startled noise at that, “Glad your subconscious thought differently” he added, sarcasm dripping off each sentence.

_“More like ‘Glad Morgana tricked me’”_ Merlin thought, but kept it to himself with a quiet chuckle, hoping that Arthur would drop the subject. Obviously, the wish was futile, as the blonde knew all of Merlin’s ways and remained perfectly still, expectantly looking at him. Merlin then did the only thing he could think of: launched himself backwards, throwing his torso fully on the bed, and covered his face with his hands.

“Fine!” he admitted, groaning at the situation and the entire absurdity of it, “I was spiralling and texted you but now I’m so much better and can you please just let it go, Elsa?”

He could feel a dip in the mattress next to him and the light chuckle Arthur gave when he was amused. “ _You got other issues, buddy, don’t think about your straight best friend right now_ ” his brain fired down, keeping him anchored to his reality. “What was the issue?” Arthur asked, too close for Merlin’s liking, but the raven-haired part-time superhero wasn’t exactly complaining about that at the moment.

“I was just checking some articles about Coccinelle and the whole shitshow that went down with that picture” he admitted, turning to look at Arthur.

The blonde had always had such a deep adoration for Coccinelle, that Merlin had always been jealous of: even if he was straight, the knowledge that he would’ve preferred the hero over the civilian sometimes stung, rather painfully. During their high school years, Arthur used to have his phone lock screen as a picture of the spotted superhero, while the normal one was a badly taken selfie of the two of them. As they both matured and grew older, both photos had been replaced with something more sophisticated, like a sunset he had taken on one of his business trips, but the Coccinelle had been the last to go. That was one of the things holding him back from coming out to Arthur: not the fear of rejection per se, after all he would’ve never been brave enough to admit his feelings and to risk their friendship, but rather the fear that only one part of him would be desirable, leaving the rest, the imperfect and clumsy physic student over the agile and perfect hero, to be forgotten. He knew deep down that he was being idiotic and nonsensical, yet he could not stop overthinking it all.

He was now abruptly taken away from his spiralling thoughts as Arthur put him into a headlock and began messing with his hair: “How many times do I have to tell you to stop reading that rubbish? Those assholes know shit and are just pissed cause LB won’t ride them!” he said with a sharp tone, an edge on his voice that wasn’t there a minute prior.

_“LB?”_ Merlin thought, not really realizing why such a nickname bothered him coming from Arthur and deciding to focus on it later. He untangled himself from the maze of limbs that they had created, managing not to touch too many body parts, and moved further away on the bed, leaning against the wall and putting a good distance between him and the blonde model. “I know you’ve told me and I know Gwaine told me and I know that the whole fucking universe told me. But I just can’t stop, it’s fucking awful!” he began saying, folding his legs and tucking his arms tight as if they could protect him from the outside world. “He’s Coccinelle for fuck’s sake, Paris’ Protector and all that shit! And yet all those people are telling him down, demolishing everything he’s ever done just cause he _‘might be gay?_ ’. Fuck it, so what then? If he’s not safe then who the hell is? Cause I sure as hell don’t feel like it, and I don’t have a spotlight up my ass every time I go out and yet I never said shit about being bi cause I don’t want people to judge and shit like that. And it’s all fucked up cause all those assholes were praising him and Chat for ages and now turned back on them on speculations. Those two are not even together! It’s clear as day in that fucking picture and in all the others that they’re not banging, but what if they were? Why would it change anything? Also, who wouldn’t want to get some action with either one. I mean I love Chat more than I really should and…”

Arthur then bolted up on his feet, raising his arms up and simultaneously moving to the other side of the room, bumping into the desk and bracing himself against it as if to ground himself to the Earth down below. “Wait, wait, wait, wait a second” he said, voice shaking and full of disbelief, “You’re WHAT?” he all but screamt.

Merlin was confused: he was monologuing and spiralling about how unfair the situation his alter ego had found himself in, and was probably only about to reveal how he might be in love with his partner while omitting the pressing feelings he had for his best friend, but nothing came into his mind that might’ve set Arthur off. “What the hell are you… _Oh_.”

_“Shit._ ” he thought, moving a hand over his mouth to shut himself up, even if it already was too late for that. _“There you go, genius, ruining everything as usual_ ”

“Yeah. _Oh_ ” Arthur yelled, shaking with what Merlin thought was rage, not that he could be blamed: after all, Merlin had lied for years. “When the fuck were you supposed to tell me?” he continued, sounding more and more hurt as words came out.

Damning perpetually his mouth, Merlin got up and moved closer to the blonde, who was now gripping the desk with white knuckles, “This is not a big deal Arthur” he said, cringing internally at the words but not finding better ones.  
“It’s not a big deal?”, he raised his arms up in the air, only to then grab his jacket and put it on rather violently; “It’s not a big deal he says, can you believe this?” he kept on saying, now more to his jacket that to Merlin himself. The raven-haired boy moved closer, trying to comfort the blonde as best as he could. _“How the tables have turned_ ” he thought grimly.

“I can explain…” he began, but was cut off almost immediately. “And you were not even gonna tell me, were you? You’d rather keep me in the dark about this and pretend like this is nothing?” Arthur said, throwing his arms around with a wild look in his blue eyes.

It was Merlin’s turn to be disappointed now, “Honestly I don’t see why you’re making such a big fuss about this” he claimed, motioning uselessly around the room.

“BECAUSE THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!” Arthur exploded, gaze fully maniacal now and voice raised to the roof.

Merlin didn’t understand, couldn’t. “What do you mean?” he tried to ask, unsuccessfully trying to raise his voice and shrinking back into himself. Arthur moved a hand over his hair, shaking them as if to wake himself up from a nightmare. He was looking everywhere but at Merlin, who was staring expectantly waiting for an answer. Arthur had never been homophobic, had been the one to set Gwaine and Percival together all those years prior, yet now his actions didn’t add up. Was it all Merlin? Were all his deepest fears coming into fruition and had he mindlessly ruined their friendship?

He was about to apologise, for what he didn’t really know, when Arthur spoke softly: “You’re right, you’re right.”  
“I haven’t said shit!” Merlin fired back, moving closer at the same time as Arthur all but bolted towards the door. “We’ll talk later, I swear, I gotta go!” he said while crossing the threshold and taking the stairs two at a time.

“Like Hell Pendragon, come back here now!” he yelled from his landing, but it was already too late: Arthur had already vanished out of the door and into the busy street and Merlin was left there, speechless.

He stared blankly in front of him, wondering what actually went wrong so badly that had his best friend, the person he confided in mostly, react that badly. Suddenly, he felt something touch his cheek and moved backwards with the agility of his alter ego: Morgana floated in front of his face, hugging his cheek with her little body and wiping away tears that Merlin didn’t realize he was shedding.

“He just needs time, that’s all” she claimed, trying and failing to sound comforting.

Merlin fell down to his knees, holding close the little kwami, and remained sitting on the floor till sundown, worrying and wondering what went so utterly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised angst and angst shall be!  
> I deeply apologize, truly  
> jo


	6. just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title comes from the sog 'Just a Kiss' by Lady Antebellum

“Need help?” Chat asked, drawing closet and leaning on his baton.

They had a great sparring session, with him letting go of all his frustrations of the previous day and Chat not holding back his punches, seeming in a similar state. There had been no news of Arthur, not a single text, nor a shared meme. Radio Silence all over.

Merlin had cried, yelled and panicked the entirety of the night, skipped lectures and was now on a rooftop, holding back tears and focusing on the next move.

Unfortunately for him, Chat seemed to know him pretty well and immediately recognized the shift in his mood. Sometimes, having a partner in crime that could read him so easily was frustrating.

“Do you know anything about physics?” he asked, dodging the question and preparing a fast lie to cover for the mess of his life. “ _Just school work, not a big issue_ ” he thought, ready to vocalize the full concept.

Chat shook his head negatively, “No, but my Best Friend does and he’s a genius!” he admitted, opening up in a wide smile, as he always did when talking about his personal friend. This time, though, the smile wavered and faltered, a hint of discomfort behind the blue eyes.  
“I thought I was your Best Friend!” joked Coccinelle, trying to lighten up the mood but failing miserably, drowning in his own pool of sorrow. His mind had always felt like quicksand, and the harder he tried to get out, the faster he sank.  
Chat sat next to him on the building edge, feet propped up and head resting on his knees. For a few moments they were both silent, until Chat spoke again, softly and in a whispered voice: “You’re the love of my life and a general pain in the ass, but if you weren’t around he’d be both my best friend and my fiancée cause I would have proposed at the end of high school, no doubt about that” he rambled quietly, shaking his head at the end and trailing off.

Coccinelle was shocked: despite their close friendship, he had rarely seen Chat this vulnerable, especially when talking about people he cared about. Chat was more like a dog than a feline, hyperactive and affectionate and generally a ray of sunshine. It took him a moment to register the words, though.

It almost felt like being smacked in the head by a mallet, “Chat are you coming out as queer to me?” he blurted out, not filtering his words and probably sounding foolishly.

Chat simply shrugged at it, not acknowledging his voice and internal panic. “Guess so, uh. You never realized before?” he asked, turning his head and watching Coccinelle with a curious gleam in his eyes. “NOPE!” the spotted hero yelled, jumping on his feet and taking a few steps back on the rooftop. His entire mind just exploded: he had always thought that Chat’s flirty nature spurred his actions and that his pretend feelings where only for show. He basically considered Chat as a straight dude with the highest confidence in his sexuality ever. Most of his inner talks about the feline hero, mainly the ones about why he shouldn’t develop a crush on him, were revolved around that knowledge. One unrequired straight crush was enough and at the same time way too much he could handle.

But now? Coccinelle’s word shifted on his axis, he re-evaluated all his life choices at once and generally panicked.

“Wait, are you judging me?” asked Chat, bringing him back to reality on their conversation on a rooftop. He had also moved up and was now moving closer, a dangerous expression painted on his face.  
“Nah, dude” said Coccinelle, motioning uselessly with his hands about the inaccuracy of the situation, “I’m bi, by the way so it wouldn’t be my place. Just didn’t expect that” he admitted, running his hand over his hair and trying to get his thoughts out of his crowded brain.

“NOT YOU TOO!” Chat yelled, throwing his hands up in the air and circling around himself, ‘ _stress-pacing’_ as Coccinelle had dubbed it once, as they discussed college and future civilian careers. “Excuse you?” he asked, now offended and crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows in a way that would’ve made his uncle proud.  
Chat moved a hand to smooth his face, pulling a weird pained expression as Coccinelle remained stoically silent, waiting. “My best friend also came out to me as bi while rambling” he began, struggling his weight from one foot to the other, “I panicked and ran away without explanation like a moron.” He looked beaten down and downright miserable; _“That’s a weird coincidence”_ Coccinelle thought, not focusing truly about it but choosing to move closer to his partner and circle him with his arms. His feline counterpart held on tighter, resting his head on the spotted hero’s shoulder.

“Why did you panic?” Coccinelle asked after a while, when the untangled. “ _Thank God it’s fucking night cause this would make the first page of the NelleBlog”_ he thought bitterly as he walked back to the ledge, propping down and letting his feet swing into the empty air.

“Cause I love him more than anyone else in this universe, but I also love you like crazy” Chat admitted, sitting down once again next to him and mimicking his actions, “And it was easier to pretend that those feelings didn’t exist with him, but now I have to face the truth and I feel like shit.” He put his face on his hands and sighed, profoundly; that boy always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and now looked exactly like it.  
“What’s different about me then?”

He looked up at that, a twinkle on his eyes: “All of Paris is into you, so I figured that it wouldn’t really mattered if I developed feelings as well. I could hide it as a weird obsession, which I did” he admitted, slightly shoving Coccinelle with a playful and fond expression, “My father’s not your greatest fan, by the way, so me being that into you was my teenager rebellion” he concluded, turning once more to look into the unknown.

“You’re exaggerating!” huffed out Coccinelle, staring dumbfounded at the feline hero. He knew Chat’s father was a pain in the ass and a hateful human, but he never had heard such a thing as someone truly hating him prior the scandal.

“No, really! Whenever we appear on the news he scoffs and shit. I think it’s the full-body leotards” he whispered in a compilatory tone, leaning in slightly. Coccinelle mirrored his stance, moving his head closer and murmuring in a hushed tone: “Does he have a moral crusade against them?”

“Kinda” Chat admitted, smiling lightly, “Not to get into too detailed territory, but he’s into fashion. It’s kinda like the family business, actually.”

“No way! Really? Is that why you’re always so well groomed?” asked a very curious Coccinelle. They rarely shared very personal information, always mystery all over, as Kilgharrah had instructed them, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the stray alley cat did in his time out of the spandex.

“Comes with the territory” responded proudly Chat, chest puffing out in an exaggerated fashion, that sent both boys in a maniacal state of laughter, Coccinelle doubling over himself and Chat leaning back, breathing erratically as he tried to stop his giggles.

When they both calmed down from their whirl, the two remained in silence, each contemplating the empty.

“You know what?” asked eventually Chat, bringing Coccinelle back to reality. He turned expectantly, resting his cheek on his palm as he looked at his feline partner.

“Life’s too short, right? And I’ve already wasted so much time…” he began, trailing off and sound nervous and excited at the same time. Coccinelle made a mental tally of all the possible outcomes of the situation: perhaps he’d go and pursue the best friend he was clearly enamoured of, or spent an entire week wearing leotards of all shape and patterns in front of his rigid father. He’d definitely would’ve needed pictures of it, within their limits of privacy over their civilian lives. Trying to get Chat to continue his sentence, Coccinelle leaned once more forward and levelled his friend with a steady gaze. “Yeah?” he asked, waiting for whatever earth shattering moment that was clearly about to come.

“Well, fuck it.”

And with that, Chat leaned forward and placed his lips upon Coccinelle’s, stunning the spotted hero. Neither moved, neither breathed.

Chat withdrew first and jumped up to his feet quickly, ready to take off and muttering a string of rambled and panicked apologies.

“Wait!” yelled Coccinelle, getting up as well and grabbing hold of his arm. The light seemed to reappear on Chat’s face and Coccinelle’s heart broke at the prospect of what he had to say. Despite his attraction over the black cat, his love would always be for Arthur, and nothing, not even time, could change that.

“I get it” said immediately Chat, able to read him perfectly as always.

“It’s just that, there’s another” he admitted with a grave smile, tears forming in his eyes at the thought, “He’s my best friend and even if he is a clotpole sometime, I still love him more than anything.” Chat wrinkled his eyebrows, as if he couldn’t understand or place something. Coccinelle understood it all: after all, he had rarely talked about Arthur and never hinted about his feelings, so it all was new territory for the feline hero.

“Never mind” he said, shaking his head and removing his arm from the spotted grasp, “I get it, I told you. It’s just that, yeah, you and Mer both deserve better anyway. Good luck with the guy and forget anything happened, see ya next patrol, yeah?” And with that, without waiting for a reply, he unleashed his baton and swung away into the night, leaving a distraught Coccinelle alone on the rooftop.  
“…yes” he replied uselessly, before following suit in the direction of his own home, his mind whirling with wishful thinking and hopes and dreams.

Not for the first time, the thought of Arthur and Chat being the same person made its way into Merlin’s mind. But not even ladybugs were that lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, there's more angst than i had truly anticipate and i'm really sorry about it  
> two more chapter, tho ;)  
> Pls comment your opinion cause I was really anxious about this chapter and yeah  
> jo


	7. Walls are falling down all at once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't betad

Merlin woke up abruptly, sitting up on his bed and panting heavily. He tried to regain his breath, to steady his beating heart, while he took in his surroundings. He was still in his bed, covers kicked around his legs; his hair had, without a doubt, moved into ten different directions and looked like a mop of black fibres and curls; his very old and worn Doctor Who t-shirt that he now used to sleep in was still in place and hadn’t been replaced by a ratty blue fabric and a neck-handkerchief.

When he had managed to calm himself down and after having controlled Morgana’s sleeping form, he laid back on the bed once more, sorting his head. He had had the weirdest dream, the most realistic one ever: he was in what seemed like Medieval clothes, inside a castle he had no memory of. He couldn’t recall much, only flashes and various sounds, undistinguishable chatter and the occasional ringing of a bell, but he was supposed to be a servant, of that he was sure of. He had spent the major part of the dream running around errands and attending a faceless Prince.

The Prince appeared to have a familiar shape, blue eyes and blonde hair and a smile he couldn’t quite place. Merlin was afraid of admitting that he did look like both Chat Noir and Arthur, but he knew that that was only his brain’s way of reacting to his feelings. He did have fun with the Prince, whenever they were alone and talked and joked freely with one another. They were young and carefree and, dare he say it, in love. He had magic powers, where those came from he didn’t know, but apparently they were outlawed by the King and therefore he had to keep it a secret.  
Why would his mind conjure up such a odd image, Merlin didn’t know. The recent events must’ve triggered his brain into those strange situations, he tried to rationalize. He could understand the duality of the Prince being simultaneously Chat and Arthur, something that his most vivid dreams always had in common, yet the rest was completely pointless and strange.

He had spent the entire night agonizing over the kiss, going over it endlessly, arguing with himself. He had feelings for the feline hero, after all, so why couldn’t he just lean in and keep going? It did feel incredibly nice to be with Chat, but there was always a voice in the back of his head that nagged him about Arthur. His heart had belonged for far too long to the blonde supermodel and nerd to be overwritten for the blonde superhero and dork, no matter how hard those and intense those feelings were.

And, while he knew that, even if he happened to be queer in some magical way, Arthur’s life was in the open eye constantly and his father would’ve never let anything happen, unless it was for a campaign or a photoshoot.

Merlin placed a pillow over his face, silently screaming his frustration at it. When did his life become so complicated?

He couldn’t stop going back to the kiss, though. His mind and heart both ached at the memory, and he had to admit, at least to himself, that it had been more than nice. Chat’s lips were soft and warm and he had been caught out of the blue, but still managed to feel the energy tense between them. Groaning, he turned around once more.

His loud thoughts and his restless stirrings woke Morgana. The little kwami floated slowly next to him, placing herself onto his pillow and patiently waiting for him to start talking. She had listened the night before to his pointless rambling, before suggesting he simply went to sleep and figure out a strategy in the morning.

And now she waited. They stared at each other in silence, both challenging the other to start. But she was better at this game, and Merlin ended up sighing once more, placing his entire face on a pillow and muttering unintelligible nonsense.

“Can’t hear you” she said in her melodious voice, mocking him completely. He rose up at that and looked her in the eye, “I said: I don’t know what to do” he admitted, propping himself up to a seating position and allowing her to float onto his lap.  
“Well, that much was clear” she commented, crossing her arms and looking up expectantly, as if he was supposed to know the answer to the problem already.

“It’s not easy!”  
“Never said it was” she added, patiently nudging him with his arm to keep on going and to finish his thought. He sighed, leaning his head back on the bedframe and closing his eyes: despite having just woken up, he could feel the exhaustion of the previous night, neigh week, on himself still.  
“How are we supposed to have a relationship, when we don’t know each other’s personal lives and are also forbidden to know!” he asked eventually, speaking softly despite his internal turmoil.

“Who told you that?”

“Kilgharrah, in one of his stupid riddles. He said we’re not supposed to share our identities.”

Morgana widened her eyes almost comically, as if she had only then understood something. “Yes, but he didn’t say anything about figuring out on your own…” she trailed off, looking simultaneously guilty and unknowing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, raising up his eyebrows in the best impression of his uncle he could muster.  
“It means, dummy, that you should connect your brain!”  
“Hey! Why are you acting so weird about this all of the sudden? You never truly cared about this.”

She now had the decency to look very ashamed, her gaze moving around the room as if looking for an escape route to the situation: “Cause I made a bet with Leon that you’d be the first to figure it out and if I’m gonna lose you’ll be sorry” she admitted, flying up to float in front of his face and threatening him from her entire ten centimetres height. Despite her tiny stature, she did manage to appear quite intimidating whenever she wanted to, and Merlin tried to rarely cross her more than necessary. But the scene now appeared more hilarious than terrifying, which lead Merlin momentarily stop his internal turmoil and laugh freely, resting his head on the board and enjoying the moment.

“Why are you telling me all of this now?”  
“Cause Chat’s not stupid and he’s probably on the way to figuring it out as well.”  
Merlin heart leaped up, his brain overflown with questions: in the midst of it all, one stood out. Never, in a billion years, he would’ve imagined this turnout of events, it all felt too much like a train wreck to be good. “Wait, you mean we **know** each other?!” he asked, slightly panicking and mentally recalling every single person he had ever met in his entire life.  
“Yup!” Morgana replied smugly, floating away and moving to take a cookie out of her stash. Merlin jumped up out of his bed, pacing nervously around and spinning as he began to blurt of questions, “What? How? Why? Where?”

He desperately tried to get a grasp of the situation: he knew Chat’s civilian identity and he never realized it? How was it even possible? No one but him and Arthur had that dishevelled hair, the typical bed-hair that Chat constantly had; no one had the intense blue eyes that sparked up whenever Chat talked passionately about something he liked or about his best friend; no one but Arthur managed to reduce Merlin and, consequently, Coccinelle, into a blushing and bubbling mess and no one else managed to make his heart leap out of his chest.  
“Afraid I can’t answer those questions, but you know all of the answers…” Morgana began to trail off sardonically, clearly enjoying the scene in front of her. Merlin was about to suggest she made some popcorn, since she wasn’t exactly shy about her delight in the spectacle he was giving her, but decided to stay on track. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
“Language!” yelled offended the little kwami, raising a hand menacingly, “Also, you are dumber than I thought, _LB_!”  
He folded his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow and focusing on the tiny infuriating creature, “Okay, just cause I let Chat call me Ladybug and shit, it doesn’t mean anyone else can too!”

“Are you sure?” she asked, picking up at a cookie and pointedly giving him a stare that spurred his brain into action.

Only Chat called him Ladybug, or LB, or the ever frustrating _My Lady_. Coccinelle had tried to make him stop, but he had to admit that he had grown quite fond of the endearment now. And he also liked that only Chat Noir called him that.

Except when he didn’t. Another impossibly handsome blonde had called Coccinelle _LB_ on occasion.  
“What the hell… Oh. _Oh_.”

It made sense, had since the beginning. Yet Merlin just couldn’t believe it, it was way too good to be true. His one true love and his destiny, his partner in crime and his fellow vigilante, his soulmate and his companion. They were the same person.

Chat Noir was Arthur Pendragon.

“Fuck!” he whispered, falling onto his knees and raising his arms up to cover his face. It all made too much sense, how Chat’s little clues about his civilian life fitted so well into Arthur’s routine, how Arthur had photoshoots out of town on the days when Chat was unavailable to patrol.

But if the two were one, that meant also that Merlin was Chat’s best friend, the one he had admitted of been in love with, second to Coccinelle, who was Merlin and… “Shit.”

He desperately rose his eyes up to Morgana, who was sitting at his desk. It couldn’t be true, could it? But the little demon just nodded, infinite tenderness on her face as she floated next to Merlin’s cheek to softly stroke it.

“You know what you have to do now, don’t you?” she asked patiently as he slowly nodded his head, “Neither of him wants to see either of me.”  
“We both know that’s not true. You should talk to him.”

“Which one?” he demanded desperately. He understood that it didn’t make a difference, yet it troubled him immensely still. Arthur was Chat and was in love with both Coccinelle and him, but he possibly didn’t know that Merlin and Coccinelle were the same person. And who knew what his reaction would be when he found out. Merlin wouldn’t blame him if the blonde never wanted anything to do with him ever again.  
“Don’t be so difficult and so hard. Just call him, whichever number you have closest!”  
She made everything seem easier than it actually was, but Merlin had to admit that her suggestions were always spot on. “Alright, alright…” he mumbled as he hit the contact for Arthur and waited for him to answer. “He’s not picking up” he said, defeat piercing his very bones as he plopped back down on the bed, waiting for it to swallow him whole.  
“Probably he’s still sleeping” commented Morgana innocently. “Yeah, Arthur doesn’t have class for this morning and neither do I” he said, as a plan began forming in his head. Like a mad man, he moved quickly to put on some decent clothes and a pair of running shoes, before grabbing his phone once more and sprinting to his balcony, yelling “Morgana, _transformez-moi!”_ as he began to run on the rooftops of Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter to go!  
> pls insert the 'You know I had to do it to them' meme cause ;)


	8. You really aren’t going to drop that infuriating nickname, are you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand here we are  
> the finale!  
> Sorry it took so long, I'm in the midst of exams and i've got a lot of things swarming my mind so  
> hope you can forgive me!  
> Enjoy!

He knew the entirety of the Pendragon Mansion by heart by now, both inside and out.

Merlin had been over so many times, from stern dinners with Uther asking questions about school, to lazy Saturdays playing video games in Arthur’s room; from sleepless nights before exams and quizzes, to sleepovers with Gwaine and Percival that ended in pillow fights that resembled sword-fights down the great stairs. He could roam the various halls he was permitted on without getting lost, but not without bumping into some random furniture that had been on constant rotation to match with Uther’s fengshui.

Coccinelle had also been on the outside several times: akumas mostly sprung around the area or tried to get the heroes back there, for reasons unbeknownst to Coccinelle. He once had to recharge on the mansion’s roof, in the only blind spot there was on the entire perimeter, and managed to do so with his knowledge of the house. Knowledge which he would need at the moment.

Arthur had made arrangements for the cameras outside of his room to be shut down, without his father’s knowledge. He had explained it as a small act of teenager rebellion, but it was a large and big action: Uther controlled everything, to the last second, of Arthur’s life back then, and privacy was nearly nonexistent. This way, he could pretend to be a normal teen that didn’t have his every move mapped out.

On insight, that might’ve lead Merlin to discover his identity as Chat sooner, were it not for the entire lack of privacy that poor boy had to go through daily.

It was a good thing that he knew the system so well, for he managed to land as Coccinelle on the balcony effortlessly. The room inside was empty, the bed dishevelled and messed up as if someone had just gotten up.

Merlin was standing on two options: breaking and entering, which was a felony and something he generally frowned upon, not to mention that the sound could cause commotion and his discovery; or he could knock. There wasn’t the usual mess Arthur left in the morning after spending countless minutes deciding what to wear, which meant that he was probably still in the shower.

Breathing in slowly, he lifted his hand up and knocked on the glass, waiting for the axe to drop. He had no way of knowing if the water was still running or not, but he prayed that someone was going to open sometime soon.

His Ladybug luck was surely running high that day, for a very shirtless Arthur came into the room, running a towel in his hair and messing them in a way that rendered Merlin constantly speechless. He shook his head, that train of thought had to be put on hold. They had more important things to discuss first and foremost.

When Arthur spotted him, waiting on his balcony, he leaped in the air, eyes wide and scared. Merlin’s heart broke for him, but he managed to give his best friend a reassuring smile. He knew how the situation might’ve appeared on the other side, but he had thought that this was going to be the best course of action for both of them.   
A text could be ignored, a call could go unanswered and Merlin might’ve had problems to reach Arthur. But Coccinelle standing on your window waiting to be let in wasn’t something that could go unnoticed.

Eventually Arthur composed himself and plastered on his face a calm look of superiority that he always had on during shoots: he wasn’t the nervous friend or the chivalrous partner, but rather a stone cold and calculative bastard that managed to come out of every situation on top.

As soon as the door was opened, Coccinelle moved inside and closed the blinds, not willing to let anything slip out of that room.  
“What do I have to owe this visit to?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms over his chest and switching into a ready-to-fight stance that was typical of Chat. Merlin was so embarrassed that he hadn’t figured it out sooner.  
“I know” he blurted out, too quickly to make any sense to himself even. He knew too many things and had no clue about where to start.

Arthur had a very comical reaction, his face contorted into the weirdest expression as he leaned closer, as if that could’ve helped him understand better the situation, “What?”

Coccinelle took a shaky breath in, walked to the bed and sat down on it uncourteously. In a flash, all the times he had seated in that same exact spot, waiting for Arthur to get ready or playing videogames. “I know you’re Chat” he admitted, looking expectantly at Arthur and studying his reaction.

To his part, Arthur maintained his stoic demeanour and appeared unfazed, but Merlin knew his best friend too well and he could spot the subtle change in his posture. “That is preposterous, I am not Chat Noir” he said in a monotone voice, guarded and visibly upset.  
“Do you really want me to go in detail about why I know you’re Chat or can we directly skip it to the part where we both acknowledge our identities?”  
Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head and moving to sit next to Coccinelle on the bed, leaning backwards to lay with his forearm over his eyes. “How did you figure it out?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with regret and disappointment.  
“Let’s just say I had a revelation, shall we?” fired back Coccinelle, unsure of how to properly explain his train of thought. He had also had to avert his eyes, unable to think, as always, whenever a shirtless Arthur was around. More than once his brain shortcut around his best friend, and now he had to fully be able to reason. Otherwise, the mess they were both in wouldn’t resolve.

“When?” Arthur pondered, still unaware of the power he had on the raven-haired boy.

“Half an hour ago, I came as soon as I could. It was a bit of a shock cause I never could’ve believed it was you” he admitted in the softest voice. Never in his wildest dreams he could’ve hoped for a better outcome, yet the tension around them was palpable, and not in the good way. There were still too many unsaid words between the two friends, that could doom or free them both.

“Why? Cause I’m a supermodel nerd who’s so much into you that completely forgot about his best friend and the person he truly cares about?”

“Cause we’re both two idiots in love with each other and too dumb to admit it.”  
“What?!” Arthur jumped up to his feet and stood in front of Coccinelle, eyes blown wide and a shocked expression on his face. “You’re in love with me? Which one?”  
Coccinelle closed his eyes, unable to look at his friend and form a coherent sentence at the same time: “There’s only one you. Arthur or Chat, I don’t care. I fell first for Arthur, to be honest, but Chat warmed way into my heart” he admitted, a small smile on his lips as he finally came to full peace with his feelings.

“Dude, that was probably the gayest thing ever said”  
“You’re one for talking, Mr. I need to gossip over brunch cause you would never guess what happened at my last photoshoot!” snapped back Coccinelle, standing up as well and hoping that that final sentence might zap the pieces of the puzzle together in the blonde’s head.

“I have never once in my life told you any of that…” Arthur trailed off, lifting a hand to his hair as the gears in his brain began to move at full speed, “…NO FUCKING WAY!”

“Had the same identical reaction” replied smugly Coccinelle, finally allowing his transformation to wear off and Morgana to float freely to wherever Chat’s kwami was, undoubtedly to collect her winnings.

A dumb smile appeared on Arthur’s lips, “This is a dream” he whispered as he lifted a hand and then immediately dropped it, as if not to break the spell.

“ _Et voilà!_ ” commented Merlin, emitting a shaky laugh that betrayed his nervousness. They both remained silent, awestruck and unable to comment at the wonderful and absurd situation in front of them.

“What betrayed me?” asked eventually a cocky Arthur, once again in his ambient after the initial shock. It was astounding how quickly he managed to recollect himself.

“Morgana grew tired of our bullshit and spurred me into thinking. She and your kwami made a bet, you know?”  
“Leon lost it? Well, can’t say I mind honestly. I had my suspicions, but I was always too afraid to confirm them. I thought that, if you were actually Coccinelle, you’d eventually told me. Or I’d tell you.”  
“Sorry I ruined your plan.”

“Merlin, this is wonderful!” said Arthur, stepping closer and closer to Merlin until they were a breath away, “You have no idea how much I wanted Coccinelle to be you, how much it pained me that I was choosing him.” His hand caressed the back of Merlin’s and, in a surge of courage, the raven-haired boy took it in his, grinning like a madman. “Feeling’s mutual, pal. I also didn’t know that you felt the same way.”

“I literally told you that I was gonna marry Coccinelle one day” commented Arthur, fretting exasperation and sporting a warm and blinding smile.  
“I thought you were joking! In a ‘no homo’ way!”

It all happened in a heartbeat: Arthur leaned forward, capturing Merlin’s lips in his as a hand moved to grab the back of the black’s mop of hair. Merlin’s arm went to encircle the blonde, pulling their bodies even closer and mindful of Arthur’s still half naked body.

“How’s this for a ‘no homo’ way, my Lady?” Arthur asked sarcastically after they both had to break up their kiss, gasping for air but not letting go of the other.  
“You really aren’t going to drop that infuriating nickname, are you?”  
“Nope. You’re stuck with me now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end :)  
> sorry again for the waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading  
> (Special thanks to my beta Melipedia that has to filter the bullshit that comes through my mouth daily)  
> Don't forget to leave a kind kudo or a comment to let me know what you thought about this!  
> Thanks again,  
> Till next time.  
> Jo


End file.
